Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XIII

By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A second warning, nor unheeded. Yet

The thought appealed to me as no strange thing,

Pure though I was, that love impure had set

Its seal on that fair woman in her Spring.

Her broken beauty did not mar her grace

In form or spirit. Nay, it rather moved.

It seemed a natural thing for that gay face

It should have known and suffered and been loved.

It kindled in me, too, to view it thus,

A mood of daring which was more than mine,

And made my shamefaced heart leap valorous,

And fired its courage to a zeal divine.

All this, in one short instant, as I gazed

Into her eyes, admiring, yet amazed.